


Not My Brother

by ShadowBiscuit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 10, Demon Dean, Desperate Sam, Dirty Talk, M/M, No Intercourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2054310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How season 10 should start, from the point of view of my creative (AKA perverse) brain.<br/>Demon Dean is tied to a chair in the bunker while Sam is trying to find out what the hell is going on with his brother. Obviously, things take a 180 degree turn, and poor Sammy gets scarred for life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not My Brother

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own this series, or its characters.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

Dean let out a pain filled scream, trashing in the chair. Sam wasn’t a big fan of hurting his brother, but he was pretty sure that the thing in front of him wasn’t Dean.

At least, not anymore.

“You think a little holy water will bring the old Dean back?” he asked, laughing into Sam’s face. Dean’s green eyes turned pitch-black, the usual cocky smile now replaced by a predatory, dark smirk. “You stupid son of a bitch. You might not want to admit it to yourself, but deep down, you know the truth, Sammy.”

“No,” Sam snapped immediately, pouring the remaining contains of the bottle on Dean’s head, the holy water burning the growling man’s skin. Sam refused to believe this demon. Demons lie, they always lie, and he wasn’t going to crumble or start to panic because of what this smug bastard was trying to sell him. Oh, no, Sam was going to torture the chained up demon Dean until he started talking for real.

“I know what you’re thinking, little brother. Thinking that I’m just possessed, a fancy little exorcism kicking the black smoke out of your dear brother. You’re grasping at straws, though. And you know that,” Dean licked his bloody lips, clearly enjoying the broken look in Sam’s eyes, because he knew. “Demons lie, yes. They lie, unless the truth hurts more.”

And Sam understood, why the previous exorcism didn’t work, why his brother behaved the same, why Crowley’s self-satisfied grin was so unnerving. “Dean…” he whispered, surprised by how weak and defeated his voice was. “No. I won’t accept this bullshit. You _can’t_ be a demon, Dean! I won’t let it happen!”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure that you’re a bit late with that, Sam. I’m already part of the things that go bump in the night and man, I’ve gotta tell you, I’m freaking enjoying every second of it!” Dean laughed, fighting against the chains and cuffs, but just for show. Sam knew that he knew that Sam would let him go, because it didn’t matter what he did, his brother was lost. This thing wasn’t, _couldn’t_ be Dean.

Right?

“Sam, Sam, Sam. C’mon, let’s talk. You love our little talks, don’t you? You were always the emotional one, after all. Always wanting to talk about our feelings, turning our lives into a chick flick. Well, I’ve got all the time in the world now, so shoot.”

And Sam wanted to, really, but talking to Dean like this would be meaningless. Still, with a sigh of defeat, he erased the devil’s trap and uncuffed his brother, releasing him from all his binds since he knew that there was no point in locking Dean up, anyway.

Sam should have seen it coming, but he was still caught off guard when Dean hurled him to the other side of the room, probably breaking some of his ribs in the process. Sam tried to fight against the invisible force pushing him against the wall, though it was a waste of energy from his part, since there was no way that he could overpower his demon brother. Dean laughed as he flung Sam from one wall to the other, resulting in knocking his younger brother unconscious. Nevertheless, he soon got bored with using Sam as a wall decoration and released him, only to grab the dazed hunter from the floor and shove him into the chair he was previously occupying. He made sure that Sam was cuffed, then slapped him none too gently to wake him up.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open slowly, and when he realized the situation he was in, he felt a surge of panic, desperately tugging at his chains but it was all for nothing, just hopeless struggles of a doomed man.

“Dean,” Sam swallowed the dread trying to overpower him and looked up into his brother’s jet-black eyes. “Dean, let me go. This isn’t funny.”

“Oh, I’m not laughing, Sammy,” Dean growled, narrowing his black eyes as he grabbed Sam’s hair and yanked his head back, earning an irritated grunt from the hunter. “I think it’s time for you to be taught a lesson. For you to meet the new, and improved, Dean Winchester.” Like an animal, the demon grinned at his prey and leaned closer, his lips ghosting over the skin on Sam’s neck.

Sam tensed, taking quick and sharp inhales as he felt his brother’s tongue run across his throat, then gasped when Dean bit into his neck and probably left a bloody mark in his wake.

“Tastes like…cowardice and weakness to me,” he said, licking his bloody lips and humming at the taste of his brother’s blood. Sam was trying his hardest not to start begging, to ask Dean to stop and to listen to him, to convince him that he’ll fix him and that this wasn’t the real him. But he knew that whatever he said or was going to say wouldn’t reach his brother, so he kept silent.

Well, that is, until he felt Dean palming his crotch.

“Dean?!” Sam gasped, staring at his brother with a horrified expression. “What the hell are you doing?”

The pitch-black eyed demon chuckled darkly, working on his brother’s belt and unzipped his pants, before taking out Sam’s cock and starting to stroke it teasingly and unhurriedly. “You know, as a demon, I really don’t care about…well, anything. Don’t care about the consequences of my actions, about right or wrong, about anyone, about you or, in this case, about the fact that we’re brother and the same gender. Because right now, there’s nothing I want to do more than to jerk you off, while humiliating you in the process, little brother.” Dean purred in a sinister voice as he licked his lips.

Sam was starting to hyperventilate, eyes wide in shocked disbelief at what Dean was doing to him. He was expecting torture, or worse, but never this. Sam tried so hard to fight the heat and pleasure that swept through his body, but when he heard his brother hum proudly, he looked down in horror to see his cock being stroked to full hardness against his own will, his body betraying him completely.

He was starting to feel sick.

“No, no, Dean, _stop it!"_  he pleaded, though was unable to fight the urge to buck into Dean’s fist as he began pumping his aching cock faster, sliding his thumb across his slit, smearing the pre-come already gathered there, and Sam had a hard time believing that his own brother was giving him a fucking handjob.

“C’mon Sammy, you know that you love it. You’re aroused, rock hard from your brother jacking you off, so fucking turned on, isn’t that right? Would love to just fuck into my fist, won’t be able to forget the feel of my palm on your pulsing dick. You’re going to think about it every single time you masturbate, imagine me like this and you will come just from remembering it,” Dean whispered in a low, lustful voice as he stroked Sam’s leaking cock rougher, making it impossible for Sam to keep his voice in, the younger man moaning and gasping, panting under his brother’s touch. “Can you see it, Sammy? How fucking hard your cock gets when I’m talking like this? You know, I could spend hours doing this, teasing, stroking, licking…” he mouthed against Sam’s ear, before nipping at his earlobe, licking and biting the flesh, Sam letting out a particularly high pitched moan.

It didn’t take too long after that for Sam to throw his head back and then he was coming hard, groaning his brother’s name. Dean grinned down at his panting Sammy, bringing his come coated fingers to his lips and licking it off, while never breaking eye contact with Sam.

“Now, that wasn’t half bad, was it?” he chuckled, winking at an exhausted and utterly humiliated Sam, then with a snap of his fingers, all the binds and cuffs, chains that were keeping his brother in place disappeared. “Well, I had fun. I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Sammy.”

And with that, Dean was gone.

Sam just stared at the wall in front of him in silence, shame and humiliation weighting him down, however he was still able to find whatever was left of his pride to at least pull his pants back on. He couldn’t believe what just happened, refused to believe it as he stood up and walked out of the dungeon, locking the door to the room, leaving the chair, the cuffs and his memories about the previous events inside to be forgotten.

Hopefully, forever.


End file.
